It's evening and the chance of scattered thunderstorms has passed. So has much of my energy. I was up late last night for the convention that nominated me to be the Democratic Candidate for State Representative. I was up early to get a little campaign work done before heading off to my day job.

Back home, at the end of the day, I feel I should be reaching out to voters; potential supporters or donors. I should be writing my campaign biography or some issue statements.

My wife and daughters are off at various events, and I take a few moments to relax. Friends online are tweeting about idol on TV. Me? I play some YouTube videos of poets reading there works.

Then, it strikes me; a campaign in free verse. No, I can't talk about the issues in the style of Billy Collins or Ted Kooser. Or can I?

What are the issues? That the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation? That the best minds of our generation are being destroyed by madness, looking for an angry tax break?

At church the other week, the preacher talked about cultivating joy, not the artificial saccharine Hallmark Card happiness that gets pasted on the face of every politician when they say how happy they are to see someone they can't remember, but the sort of joy that is hard to grow, that comes from a minor victory in the face of a major struggle.

Yes, making sure that money is spent appropriately and effectively is important, and that no one has to pay too much, or more than their fair share, but what is it that really matters?

Helping people cultivate joy in a rocky garden and share a little kindness. Maybe that is more the task of the poet but maybe we need a little more poetry at the capitol.

It's evening and the chance of scattered thunderstorms has passed, for now.